


Perfect end to a perfect workout

by ChocoNut



Series: Modern JB love [70]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Established Relationship, F/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Quickies, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-22
Updated: 2021-01-22
Packaged: 2021-03-14 07:01:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,889
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28916517
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChocoNut/pseuds/ChocoNut
Summary: After a session at the gym, Jaime corners Brienne in the changing room.
Relationships: Jaime Lannister/Brienne of Tarth
Series: Modern JB love [70]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1557871
Comments: 12
Kudos: 66





	Perfect end to a perfect workout

**Author's Note:**

> Any typos are a result of my... ahem... impatience.

“Hold on a second.”

Before Brienne can realize it, he slips inside and shuts the door behind them. Before she can ask why he’s barged in here, the steady thump of blood and excitement surging up her pussy enlightens her with his intent. As does the way he’s regarding her—with a squirm she notes that those green eyes have already undressed her. In his mind’s eye, Jaime is probably half-way through eating her out. Pounding relentlessly, even, and taking pleasure in hearing her scream his name.

“Off with your clothes,” he rasps, urgently ridding her of her tee whilst she tugs down her sweatpants. 

“But—here?” Her body has no such reservations, though. Standing before him in nothing but her bra and panties, a shiver runs down her spine, a wave of heat rushes up her cunt. “There are people outside—”

“—who won’t hear us thanks to the blaring music.” He unhooks her bra, and immediately, her nipples sense his presence, come alive when he runs his fingers over her breasts. “As a reward for the bet I won last time, I get three chances to pick when and where we fuck, remember?” His gaze tied to hers, he pushes her panties down. “I choose _now_.”

He whirls her around to face the mirror when she’s shrugged the bra off, kicked her panties away, his eyes bottomless pits of lust in their reflection. She’s flushed from her exercise, beads of perspiration trickle down her neck, and it gets even hotter when he bends to devour her neck.

“Jaime, I’m hot and sweaty—”

“And horny?” He pauses, gives her a wicked wink in the mirror. “No?” 

Her body agrees. Her nipples grow taut when he pinches them hard enough to get her wetter than the already soaked clump of hair between her legs. His other hand begins a southward journey, creeping between her thighs, exploring, eager fingers nudging her folds open. “Jaime—”

“Fuck, you’re wet.” He exhales, the heat from it crashing down on her sensitive neck. “The prospect of someone knocking appeals to you more than you’d admit it.”

 _Yes,_ she begins to realize, when she spies upon her reflection. Her cheeks are flaming, her chest is heaving hard, her nipples perked up and mighty aroused, seeking more of this foreplay which could seriously escalate anytime.

He presses his mouth to her soft skin, sucking, nibbling, pushes two fingers inside her, advancing slowly just the way she likes it, flexing, reaching as far as he can go before popping them out of him. “I don’t think it’ll take long to work up an appetite,” he growls, then drives back in, maneuvers. “The workout has gotten me all hungry and—” 

“Ja—”

“Careful,” he warns, “you can’t scream,” enjoying this torture he’s inflicting on her—this frantic finger-play, working up a pace he knows will get her bang in the middle of an explosion. 

She does hold on, though, chewing her lip, resorting to grunts and strangled noises, she hopes, will be drowned out by the music. She props her right leg on the chair lying nearby to give him room, lets him in deeper, and when her fingers can’t sit idle anymore, she brings them down to join him, to speed up her end.

He’s determined to make this a moment to remember. 

He’s wanton. He’s needy. 

And so is she. But such is her state that she can’t even let it out. A whimper, a desperate hold on the wall—but that isn’t enough when he flexes those fingers in a come-hither motion, works that thumb away to a merry rhythm, dragging it over her clit over it again and again until she’s dizzy, her whole body alive and abuzz with want.

“I—I’m—”

Her words die down to a muffled lump of sound when he clamps his hand over her mouth. He strokes away, and she can do no more than wriggle and jerk. His soft, yet, rugged touch and the friction hikes her towards what she desperately needs, towards the inferno she wants to jump blindly into.

She’s melting, breaking...

She switches off to all, but him. And suddenly, all goes silent but his heavy panting and her stifled moans.

A gasp sneaks past her lips when he leaves her mouth to cup her breast, his agile fingers engulf her soft flesh, her stiffened nipple pressing into the welcoming imprisonment of his palm. When her orgasm claims her, she goes rigid in his arms, giving into the mighty contractions, letting it go.

Letting go of the chair, she leans back into him, lets him hold her, ecstasy washing over her as she allows herself to, at last, utter his name. “Oh, Jaime.”

“Well—” he lets go of her to wipe the bothersome stream of sweat off his brow “—we’re not done yet—”

“Yeah.” Dragging the chair in front of her, she pushes him onto it. “Sit.”

He obeys, a slight question mark in his eyes.

“You get to decide the _when_ and the _where_ , but the _how_ —” She climbs on to him, straddles him, grinding her slick folds up and down the bulge on his shorts. “That is up to me, darling.” 

An expectant glint appears in his eyes as he reaches up to kiss her. “I am yours. Do as you please with me, wench.”

She runs a hand down his front. She wants to feel that hard chest, needs to get her fingers on that coarse chest hair. She tugs at the ends of his tee, drags it up—sweat-ridden and clinging to his sexy form, it’s quite a task, and he eases his arms, lets her have his way as she begins to kiss him again, deep and hot, wild and passionate, a frantic urge dictating what to do.

She pauses for air, takes in a deep breath—man and musk, he’s too hot to handle, his toned biceps, that drenched chest hair inviting more of her caresses. She rocks back and forth along his swollen length, enjoys the way he twitches, tightens under her touch—cock and chest, arms and shoulders. All she wants is him, all she needs is him. The thought of him inside her fills her with a longing so powerful that it almost steals her breath.

“Your shorts—” she huskily points out, then withdraws, but only long enough for him to get his shorts down to his knees. 

He strokes himself, glides his cock head along her opening, teasing her. She groans, glides along his thick erection, and he silences her with another heavy kiss, and their lips never parting company, she goes on, steps into this fire there’s no way out of.

He sighs into her mouth, grabbing her hips to jiggle her as he needs her. 

She answers with a needy little explosive sound of her own when his mouth leaves hers to seek her breasts.

He divides his attention between her nipples, running the tip of his tongue over the erect nubs, swirling over them in such a way that her nerves are all over the place. Deep down, she’s throbbing, pulsing with expectation, yearning for that space to be filled by his delicious cock. Holding on to that streak of lust, she pulls away, her nipple tugged from between his teeth as a wonderful mix of pleasure laced with pain and the need for him to go on shoots through her.

She raises her hips, then lowers herself down his body, planting soft kisses as she slowly takes him in.

She lets him fill her, lets this get to _all_ of her, plunging down as he thrusts up to meet her. Uncaring of the attention they might attract, he moans hoarsely, pushes himself into her further. Thighs on thighs, balls bouncing against her, she’s desperate for him now. So fucking desperate. 

She rides him, races away to a pace she knows they both need. Moving together, they revel in the sensations coursing through their veins, their connection, just the way it always is—perfect.

She bounces up and down, one hand on her clit, the other caressing his bare torso. She bends into him, rubs her tits against his chest hair. Up, Down. Up. _Oh, that burning burning friction_! How she loves what it does to her tender breasts! 

Red and sore despite the sweat cushioning her aggression, and craving more of it, she goes harder. Bends to inflict some of it on him, she sucks at his Adam’s apple, tugs at his nipple until his gasps grow louder, his breath on fire.

When her end shows up around the corner, she grabs his arm, his shoulder, her senses beginning to spark with sheer delight and absolute bliss. A heated, _“fuck,”_ she cannot help as she surrenders to the pleasure, gives herself up to it. To him. 

Hot and frenzied and dripping with sweat, they keep going until her climax starts to break her down, striking her with crisp threads of electricity up her cunt and down her thighs.

All over her body, her pleasure radiates. Yes, all over, she’s throbbing as she reaches the peak of her sensations.

“Jaime,” she almost sobs, crashing into him with a moan.

“Am—getting—there,” he grunts. He grabs the back of her neck, tilts her face upright to look her in the eye. Scorching her with his torrid kisses, he bucks against her, clutching her hard, a rough growl escaping his lips that tells her he’s close.

She pulls back from the kiss, quickens, reveling in the sight before her—he’s the helpless one now, at her mercy and on the brink of surrender. His cock twitching inside her, he’s beginning to spasm under her, his head lolling, eyelids fluttering away as he awaits his fate at her hands. Gripping the back of the chair, she keeps going, up and down, back and forth. Their seat wobbles a bit—whether it’ll take their weight, the weight of their passion, she doubts.

But it’s too late now. 

She rocks away with an intent to draw him into an orgasm he won’t forget for a while.

Seconds later, he stops fighting, thrashing under her, and she bears down on him until his tremors wear her down.

Bodies heaving together, they cling to each other—the mirror beyond him tells him what a sweaty tangle of limbs they are. Relaxed and completely satisfied, she gazes contentedly into his eyes. “That was an incredibly sexy way to end a workout.”

The naughty glint of intent is back again as he unties her from his embrace. “One down, two more to go.” His hand lazily strolls down to her nipple. “I’ve been thinking—the next time will be in a mall trial room when we shop for our honeymoon clothes.”

“Wait— _honeymoon_ —” she jostles her mind, tries to ask it if this is the after-effect of her post-coital bliss. “Is that a—” her heart jumps up, barely letting her go on “—are you asking me to—”

“Yes.” He cups her cheek, lets his thumb idly wander her lips. “I didn’t mean to ask you this way, but—” He searches her face. “Brienne, I hope—”

“Yes,” she joyfully agrees, and closing her eyes, she seals her promise with a kiss. 

A perfect end to a perfect workout—this couldn’t have been better.

**Author's Note:**

> So yeah, another one I couldn't resist. Thank you for reading!


End file.
